


What's the Measure of Cute?

by Vexicle



Series: Black and White [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 03:49:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13309797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexicle/pseuds/Vexicle
Summary: She may or may not have reservations about her own body when she's staring so enviously at her girlfriend's.





	What's the Measure of Cute?

Breeze pouts in concentration, her face aflame as she squishes her girlfriend’s chest in her hands. Her girlfriend’s incredibly large, soft, _squishy_ , tender, perfect chest...

Her golden eyes narrow, her tongue sticking out, and she thinks, strangely, that she wants to pull Winter’s tits into her mouth and suck on the pink buds. Her skin is as white and fresh as snow, and whatever scent she has right now is so good and _enticing_. Breeze’s hands travel down lower, clutching eagerly at the white-haired girl’s breasts, feeling the smaller lumps.

“Breeze, what exactly are you trying to do?” Winter asks, laughter dancing in her blue eyes. It's no secret she has big boobs, indeed, Breeze knows that Winter seems quite happy. Compared to her own small chest, though, she feels... inadequate for some reason.

Despite that, Breeze has found herself staring at the other girl’s cleavage distressingly often, and she always tries to tell herself to pull away, really, she does. What usually happens instead is she continues staring at the dip of the valley of Winter’s breasts, until she is caught and Winter is winking flirtatiously at her and then Breeze is completely red and stammering out apology after apology and running away and swearing to bury herself in the next available hole that swallows her up.

Even after they started dating, Breeze finds herself... intrigued. She's only had her own meagre chest in comparison to squeeze and touch when she's knuckle deep in her folds, crying out Winter’s name at night, her other hand fisted securely in her fluffy blankets. She hates to admit it, but more than once the memory of Winter and her various stupidly sexy, midriff-baring, cleavage-showing outfits appear in her midnight fantasies.

And today she finds herself thinking, _fuck everything, everything's going to hell,_ and then she finds herself at Winter’s doorstep with that strange request on the tip of her tongue and she still can't believe her girlfriend actually granted it. Breeze tries to gauge if she can stuff her head between those pale beautiful round breasts, burning up from head to toe at the thought of doing such lewd, indecent things.

“I thought you were a good girl,” Winter says teasingly, and Breeze flushes even harder. How the hell can she still keep so damn calm when _she’s_ the one half-undressed?

“I'm only a good girl on weekdays,” Breeze says, and she can't tell if her intention is to join in the joke or to snark at Winter; regardless Winter laughs jovially, her shoulders shaking. Breeze pouts back.

Also, crap, she's totally been staring too long, hasn't she? There's no way this is socially acceptable even among girlfriends, but Breeze can't quite find the determination to lift her hands off those smooth, soft, and absolutely _tantalising_ mounds of flesh, and she finds that she's still squeezing them intermittently in her grasp. She pauses a while, and then she finally lets go, cheeks dusted with red and muttering out various apologies under her breath.

“You didn't think I'd let you go that easily, would you?” Even with her eyes trained on the ground, Breeze’s heart stops short at the dangerous tone, and she yelps as Winter rests her pale fingers on her shoulders. “You'll have to let me touch you too,” the albino says, and from the closeness of her full, bountiful breasts pressed against the small of Breeze’s back, and she's abruptly panicking as the other girl’s words sink in.

“Gotcha!” Winter announces cheerfully as she slowly inches her hands downwards, and Breeze freezes, not even daring to breathe. She waits and wills her pounding heart to calm down, but of course she doesn't get a chance to do so before Winter cups her small chest in her palms.

“W-Winter,” she protests, eyes wide, and she feels the invading hands stop in their motions.

“I'm sorry. Do you not want me to?” Winter says, the deep rumble of her voice sending Breeze’s head spinning and her breaths becoming a little faster, quicker.

“I'm small,” Breeze says pathetically.

The hands still don't move. Unfortunately, this means they are still on her chest and this is making it a little difficult for Breeze to think, her mind right now is just a constant stream of Winter, and how close she is, and how pretty she is, and how _perfect_ she is -

“Small is good. I like,” Winter says without skipping a beat. “Very fashionable and cute, too.” Breeze’s breath hitches in her throat as the other girl’s hands close gently around her soft mounds of flesh. “I'm not sure how to say it,” Winter admits, “but I couldn't imagine you with bigger boobs. You don't need a D-cup to be gorgeous, girl.”

Winter gropes Breeze with a practiced air that admittedly makes Breeze a little jealous. Goodness, this girl is definitely way above her own clumsy handling just now, and with telltale ease she whistles happily, squeezing Breeze’s clothed bosom.

Breeze blushes, letting Winter’s words of praise sink in; her girlfriend thinks she's fine, of course she does, she really should trust her girlfriend more. She relaxes in the taller girl’s grasp, allowing her to explore her curiously to her hearts content.

“I really like how slim you are,” Winter muses softly against her, resting her chin on Breeze’s head. Breeze allows the other girl to untie her black twintails from their place high up on her head. Winter strokes her hands through her long black hair to straighten out the messy strands, and Breeze leans back happily with a sigh. Winter takes the opportunity to trace her hands across Breeze’s back as well. “Lithe, but muscular,” Winter says in a voice that is almost a purr, and Breeze shivers as the other girl’s breath tickles her ear.

Crap, crap, Winter is all but lighting Breeze up from the inside as she traces her fingertips along Breeze’s sides; from her ribcage to her hips, and the black-haired girl gasps softly. Winter doesn't seem to pay her any heed, chuckling lightly, wrapping one arm around Breeze, pulling her close while tracing the area between her breasts down to her navel. The other girl lets her fingers splay out over Breeze’s stomach, and her heart flutters at the touch.

“Winter…” Breeze tries to say, but she's shushed affectionately as Winter leans her cheek against the back of her head, and inhaling deeply.

“I like your scent,” the white-haired girl continues, absentmindedly stroking a few strands of long black hair with her fingers. “I've always found it really relaxing, Breeze. Your presence is relaxing in general, actually. I really like your company,” she comments quietly.

Winter’s lithe fingers settle on her hip, and Breeze holds her breath. “It's okay if you're not curvy,” Winter whispers lovingly, and Breeze feels her own heart swell almost to bursting, and she can't stop _smiling_ when Winter hugs her close. “You're cute, Breeze,” Winter says against her ear, nuzzling the top of her head. “Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.”

They stay like that for a while, Breeze wrapped in Winter’s arms and closing their eyes, enjoying the silence. She thinks about saying thank you, but then she decides against it. Words cannot describe the pounding of her heart, nor the amount of warmth she feels pooling in her chest right now, so she simply reaches up and brushes her own long fingers against Winter’s head, stroking the soft white locks, and that is enough, for now.


End file.
